The Evils of Truth and Love
by Latyon
Summary: "Everyone's the hero in their own story. I think that's what makes humanity so interesting." Years after Kanto is struck by disaster, young Jonno joins the Rocket Organization in order to free the Kanto region from the iron grip of the Pokémon League. Along the way he'll deal with love, loss, and the best and worst humanity has to offer.
1. Si Vis Pacem

Been a long time, but I'm having writers block and wanted to write something - anything. So, this story is going to be a somewhat different take on the events of Gen 1. Leave me reviews if you like the story! Rated T for violence, language, alcohol, and sexual content.

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Chapter 1 - If You Desire Peace

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February 6th

Jonno dove to the side as the glass above his head shattered amidst a hail of gunfire. He landed on an infant flame and snuffed it out; the rest of the house, though, crackled with the ghoulish howls of an inferno. Pallet Town was dying. The forests were on fire.

His ears were ringing, but he could hear his name being called above the chaos. Mom. He hadn't seen her since she'd gone out with Father earlier that evening. They'd left him with Mrs. Oak, near the town center - the hardest hit area. Poor Mrs. Oak. She'd saved Jonno's life, and would never know. Her body burned hot in the center of the house. At least she had stopped screaming.

"Mommy!" Jonno cried, his voice dry and low. He pushed himself onto his good leg and limped toward the blown-open door. Smoke towers fanned out across the atmosphere and blotted out the light of the full moon. Where it could pierce the corrosive haze, it shone its dim light on the twisted bodies of the dead. Men, women - and children, like Jonno, all motionless in the streets.

Red and blue lights lit the skyline. The low whine of their sirens punctuated the din of war.

"Jonno, oh my God, my baby!" Jonno watched as his mother climbed off the back of the family tortoise, whose water cannons were pointed into the blaze in Oak's house. The woman's evening dress was torn up to the waist, the formerly constricting garment billowing open in the rushing air. It was cold that night, but Mommy had not stop sweating. She wrapped her arms around her broken child and sobbed into the crook of his neck. He was alive.

Jonno's father slid down the blastoise's smooth shell and drew his sidearm, only half of the magazine remaining. The barrel still radiated warmth.

"We're going to Me-maw and Papaw's house, Jonno. We're going to go somewhere safe, okay baby?"

She looked up at the burning Oak residence, and said a silent prayer for Mrs. Oak. She thanked providence that the other children had not been home this evening.

"What's happening, Mama?" Jonno asked. Mom shook her head.

"We have to go, I'll explain it to you when we're safe. Come on, baby,"

She grabbed Jonno and ran with him held tightly to her breast. Father helped the two onto the back of their blastoise, holstered his gun, and gave the turtle a kick in the side to get it going. Viridian City was not far - the blastoise would make the trip before sunrise.

* * *

The Route 1 Gatehouse was packed with the dozens of mangled refugees who'd managed to escape from Pallet, all with their companion Pokémon. The only ones who'd managed to escape. To the south, black smoke poisoned the air above what was once home.

Mother took the slumbering Jonno into the makeshift sleeping area set up on the second floor. A woman downstairs had offered her a salve of burn ointment, which she'd already emptied onto Jonno's arms and legs. He tossed and turned in restless slumber, the hushed whimpers of the other kids around him turning into gunfire in his nightmares.

Father stood at the perimeter with his Pokémon, alongside the other fathers. He could feel the creeping sickness of poison rise up from within - he could see it in his blastoise's eyes that she'd been affected, too. Like a light hangover, his head started to pound.

"You made it!" came an older voice from behind. Father turned to see the professor hobbling up the hill toward him, on crutches. "Did you find Jonno? And Irene?" Irene. Oak's daughter-in-law - a lovely young woman with a vibrant heart. Jonno's dead babysitter.

"We found Jonno. He's safe." Oak's expression froze with hope as he awaited an answer to his second question. When none came, he closed his eyes and fought back tears. He'd already lost his son that night, and nearly his grandchildren. They were both asleep upstairs in the guardhouse - they had no idea that their parents had both been killed.

"Thank the heavens," Oak choked. It still hadn't sunk in for either of the two aggrieved fathers. They stared at the burning horizon and felt nothing but muted anger.

"Who could do something like this?" Father wondered aloud. He'd never seen such atrocities. Pallet had become hell. One minute, he was having the time of his life, his first date with his wife in years. The next, explosions. Everywhere. The actors on stage - dead. The ushers, the doormen, the people in the next seat - dead.

"People with evil in their hearts," Oak replied. He couldn't help but feel that he'd been somehow responsible. Pallet was a nice town, but an attack of this calibre didn't just happen randomly. They were targeted. And Oak's famous lab was the only thing in Pallet worth targeting. He didn't know he had any enemies, but by now, it was painfully obvious that he did.

"I saw it happen," Oak admitted. "It was the generators."

The Electrode(TM) generators. A genius invention from the eastern side of Kanto, the Electrode(TM) were sentient sources of immense energy. Pallet had run on them for years. "Something came over them. They snapped. They went straight for the nearest human and-"

"So who made the generators? Do you think they did this?" Father asked. He hadn't been home to check on his generator - but he imagined it was no longer there.

"Silph Co. No, no, there's no way..."

"Then who?"

"_Ruuuuuuuuuuuuun_!"

The front door of the guardhouse lit up bright white and vanished with a sonic boom and a wave of fire; those inside cowered away from it while those outside rushed toward the building. Father wasted no time and jumped onto the back of the blastoise, leaning in as the beast hobbled toward the fire, water cannons already blasting.

* * *

Jonno awoke amidst the flames of another hell, unsure whether or not he was still dreaming. The floor began to brown as the flames ate through the wooden supports and poked up through the floor like little tongues.

He looked at the generators buzzing lightly on the other side of the room. One of them had opened its eyes. It was looking right at him.

It started to radiate white hot. In the split-second before the reaction inside went critical, Jonno saw regret in the creature's eyes. As it exploded, Jonno felt a hand on his shoulder yanking him backward - a shock of brown hair caught in Jonno's mouth as he was taken down to the ground, pinned beneath the body of someone close to his age. The flames passed over their bodies as the structure of the building failed, and the floor fell out from beneath the two, dropping them into the crater of Route 1's destroyed gatehouse.

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Review if you'd like more! Again, I'm a huge sucker for reviews, and will always reciprocate by reading your stories and leaving reviews for you!


	2. Coup

Author Notes: I'm still trying to hash out main characters. Jonno is clearly the protagonist. I think Red and Blue will probably be the antagonists, and I have ideas for supporting characters. If there's a character you'd like to see get involved, shoot me a review!

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Chapter 2 - Coup

* * *

Jonno awoke with blood pouring from scrapes all over his body. Someone was carrying him - a massive, three-fingered hand. The guardhouse was another glowing dot on the horizon, masked against the red of sunrise. It was hard to tell, though - everything was so hazy. His eyes were pulsing with a deep-seated pain. Mom was walking alongside him, her hand on the blastoise's back.

"Mommy," Jonno whimpered, the sound barely escaping his lungs.

"Shh shh..." she replied, "Don't talk, baby."

"Where's Daddy?"

"Shh...shh...go to sleep, honey..." Jonno didn't like the way she said it, but he did as she said. He'd never see his father again.

* * *

It took years for the air in Pallet Town to become breathable once more. Even then, only a few people ever saw fit to move back there - the Oak family, for example. Oak's lifelong research had all been destroyed - archives upon archives of biological data, schematics for dozens of new life-altering technologies, even new life forms. Lesser men would write it off as a total loss - these men had not the spirit nor resilience of Samuel Oak.

Jonno and his mother returned to Pallet after some time to help with the reconstruction - sadly, their blastoise did not make it back. Shortly after rescuing Jonno and his mother from the gatehouse massacre, the blastoise rushed back in to find the body of her master, Jonno's father, and succumbed to toxic fumes from an unknown source. Before dying, the blastoise laid a single egg and brought it to Jonno and his mother. Before long, a baby squirtle was born into the destroyed Kanto region. His name was Dewey.

Not until Professor Oak's radio was repaired did Pallet's citizens realize how devastating the events of February 6th were. No longer did Oak believe he'd been targeted for destruction: every major city in Kanto had suffered a mass casualty event. Artificial Pokémon were universally to blame - Electrode-brand generators exploding, Magnemite technician pods blacking out entire cities, sludgy grimer and muk washing up on the banks of rivers and poisoning the water for miles. Perhaps it was a bluff, or some sort of macabre act of God. Perhaps it was punishment for human hubris, for playing God and destroying His planet. People, as they often did in hard times, came up with tons of different explanations. Over time, the wilder ones seemed to vanish in favor of a collective agreement.

Rumors flew freely from the heart of the rebuilding civilization, Saffron City - rumors of a criminal syndicate behind Silph Co., who were fully to blame for the events of the 6th. And soon after the rumors began, men and women in black and red became common sightings around the region. It wasn't long until the Rocket Organization became a household name.

As time went on, the cities became increasingly isolated from one another - the government declared martial law and seemed to vanish amidst decreasing resources. Water was rare. Many cities devolved into anarchy - ripe for takeover by the Rockets, growing exponentially in number as humanity became more desperate.

In response to this, powerful trainers from around the world took up arms to restore order in their cities. It became government by the strongest, totalitarian rule in each city. Their word was law. And though the radio stations would glorify them like gladiators, many despised these individuals. Some were seen as brutish, such as Brock of Pewter City - others as wasteful, like Misty of Cerulean, whose home was said to house huge pools of fresh water used exclusively for swimming. And as their popularity grew, each grew more and more detached from their constituents.

Jonno despised the town leaders. He saw them as destructive forces in a very fragile period of human history - individuals who used their power to divide Kanto, rather than to unify it. If Kanto were ever going to recover, then their people needed to come together. And there was only one group with the means to accomplish that lofty goal. It was this that led Jonno to the deepest rooms of the Viridian City gym, to the only town leader who spoke for unity. To the man named Giovanni.

* * *

Brock wiped the sweat from his brow as he lowered himself onto one knee, shifting the weight of the water he was carrying to the ground next to the entrance to his personal gym. He'd spent the day drawing water at a hidden well at the base of the mountains out west - one which had, so far, been spared poisoning. He'd told no one where he got the water from - "trade," he'd answer, if pressed, but normally people were just happy that he was providing. It was why he was their leader - that, and his vicious Pokémon.

It had been nearly a week since the last major kerfuffle in Pewter City. All things considered, it'd been relatively peaceful. He'd thought that the influx of Rockets in recent weeks would prove problematic; however, most of them seemed content to stay the night and pass on through the next day. Pewter had that advantage - compared to most other cities, it was innocuous. Their museum drew some attention, sure, but mostly vandals. Mostly trainers who were all bark. Trainers who were easy to put in the ground. Still, when Brock passed through the doorway of his gym, he could tell that he wasn't alone.

Brock wasn't in the mood to fuck around. He reached for the Poké Ball on his belt and brandished it against the shadows. "Show yourself," he growled.

Jonno obliged.


	3. A Game of Stones

Author Notes: I figured I'd skip all the boring shit at the beginning of the Kanto games and jump straight into Pewter City. This fic takes the power of each Pokémon rather more seriously than most other Pokémon media. Pokémon can die, easily. Trainers usually fight each other as well. And I'm going to take the Pokédex descriptions from the games as true, as often as I can.

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Chapter 3: A Game of Stones

* * *

Gravel crunched beneath Jonno's steel-toed boots as he stepped into the beam of the spotlight dangling from the ceiling. Two Poké Balls made deft circles through and around his fingers as he sized up the man who ran Pewter City, eyes scanning the leader up and down, up and down again. And just as Brock's reputation suggested, the man was six feet of solid, rock-hard muscle.

"You must be Stoneking," Jonno hissed. The gym leader made no motions. He stood firm, like a boulder.

"Brock Stoneking. That's right. And you're a Rocket."

"I am."

Brock crossed his arms across his chest. "If you've come for dinner, I'm afraid you're a bit early. Rations aren't handed out until dark."

Jonno shook his head.

"I thought not," Brock sighed. "You're here for my Pokémon."

This time, Jonno nodded. A devilish grin played across his face. "Your time is up, Stoneking. Pewter City has spoken. The people don't want rations, they want food. Shelter, not dirt tunnels. Dare I say, the standard of living in this city harkens back to the Stone Age."

Brock's eyebrow twitched.

"Without your Pokémon, your reign is over. I'm here to return Pewter City to the people."

It was Brock's turn to smile. He'd smashed a dozen Rockets this week alone.

"Well then, boy. Have at me!"

Jonno launched forward into a run, with Brock mirroring his moves. The two unclipped their Poké Balls from their belts and chucked them into the rapidly closing space between them. From Brock's emerged a dense, irregular boulder which unfolded its arms and glared at the rushing Rocket. From Jonno's erupted an ape-like swine outfitted with boxing gear.

The ape-pig launched immediately toward Brock, pulling its arm back before throwing a swift hook at the leader. Brock leapt backward as his companion protected him from the monkey's savage blow; a deep crack formed in the face of the living boulder.

As the two Pokémon engaged one another, Jonno dove into Brock's torso, taking them both to the ground. The leader's fist glanced off of Jonno's face as the two fought for control of their situation.

Jonno saw red as Brock's fists came down on his face - he felt his eyebrow split open, and the warmth of blood begin to flow. Brock had multiplied in his vision - the man's muscles clearly weren't just for show.

As Brock reared back for another punch, Jonno's Pokémon interrupted him, delivering a massive hit to the leader's spine, sending him to the floor, the wind knocked out of his heaving lungs.

"Geodude..." Brock moaned, "Rock Throw!"

Jonno stood up and shook the hand of the ape-pig in appreciation for the rescue. Geodude lay split in half on the gym floor, unresponsive to Brock's demands. As the gym leader tried to regain his composure, Jonno and his Primeape approached the two halves of the kickball-sized creature.

"Bullet Punch, Primeape."

Brock watched in abject terror as the Geodude was reduced to gravel beneath the impossibly fast fists of the Rocket's ape-pig. The leader attempted to pull the creature out of the fray with the recovery function of his Poké Ball, but it was too late.

Geodude was dead.

"No! You bastard!"

Jonno and Primeape turned to face the dethroned leader. In a flash, Jonno had grabbed Brock by the neck and pinned him against the nearest wall; he drew his handgun and placed the cold metal to Brock's dark-skinned temple. At first, neither spoke. Primeape hopped back and forth on each of his legs, his adrenaline rising. He punched lightly in Brock's direction, showing immense restraint. Like a wolf with a steak dangling just out of reach, savory juices dripping into Primeape's mouth. He wanted to kill again. He'd been promised blood.

Jonno spoke first.

"You listen to me. You have exactly one hour to grab your shit and leave. One hour. If I come back - and you're still here -"

"If you're going to kill me," Brock spat, "then kill me now."

Primeape chattered giddily. He knew the word "kill." He liked that word. But Jonno hadn't said yes yet.

"One hour," Jonno oozed, "or I take this gun, and I shove it so far up your ass you'll smell gunpowder."

Jonno let go of Brock's neck, which had already started bruising. The gym leader dropped to his knees, gasping for air, tears beginning to pool in his eyes. He watched Jonno stride, confident as hell, toward the door.

Brock's sobs turned to chuckles. As his laughter grew, the building began to sway. Jonno bent his knees to absorb the sudden shock of the earth moving beneath his feet.

"Hey Rocket!" the leader called after Jonno, "Looks like you better start blasting off!"

The building's foundation split perfectly along the middle as the quake intensified; both Primeape and Jonno dropped to the ground, unable to keep their balance. Pieces of the ceiling, unhinged by the building's movement, began crashing down around the two. Brock returned to the center of the room, and faced Jonno once more.

The tremors subsided in favor of a heavy thumping beneath the floor, a thumping which soon turned into a pounding; the floor cracked in a circular pattern. Something was coming. Something huge.

"Onix!" Brock shouted over the shattering of the lights in the ceiling, "Earthquake!"

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	4. Human Nature

Jonno stumbled toward the door, now hanging open limp in the Pewter wind. The entire gym was coming down around the mad leader. From beneath the ground erupted the true ruler of the town, a massive snake both hard as diamond and fast as lightning. It raised its giant horn, threatening Jonno and Primeape - Brock hopped up the stones forming its spine like a practiced acrobat and stood atop Onix's head.

Townspeople looked on in awe, holding tight to whatever stable object they could find. As Onix rose above the wreckage of the gym, Brock standing proud atop the snake, the slow realization passed through the townsfolk that something terrible must have happened. Brock promised he'd never use the massive snake for destructive purposes. Only to build more tunnels and caves, more homes for the needy. Never for death.

The few buildings remaining in Pewter swayed. Cracks formed in their bedrock foundations. The Pokémon Center's fluorescent lights shattered, spraying colorful clouds of dust into the air. The spinning sign in front of the Market tumbled unceremoniously to the dirt. Jonno knew that if he didn't act fast, he was going to die.

"Primeape, Close Combat! Kill them both!" The ape's eyes went red with blood. The moment he'd been waiting for. In time with the tremors, Primeape danced toward the ruined gym as Onix whipped its rocky tail around. Each slam of the snake's tail shook the entire town; even one hit, and Primeape would die. Even a creature as strong as Primeape couldn't hold off a ton of swinging boulders.

Brock's eyes met Jonno's as the ape hopped onto Onix's back and began pounding at the smallest rocks forming its body. In its monkey mind, it knew that if it could find the Onix's keystone, Onix could easily be crippled.

Jonno wasted no more time - he took aim at Brock, holding tight to the swirling serpent's horn, and fired three rounds from his handgun. Two went wide - the other embedded itself inside the rock snake's horn. He was too small of a target, and too high up in the air.

As Onix turned, Primeape lost his grip, tumbling to the ground in the center of the snake's coiled body.

"Bind it!" Brock roared. Primeape tried to spider-jump his way out of the closing stone circle, but was too slow. Several tons of stone came at him from every direction; the snake squeezed, and Primeape's insides came gushing out of its snout. Its eyes popped from their sockets and its bones broke in sequence - Jonno cried out as he shot the Poké Ball's recovery ray at the dying ape.

The beast dissipated amidst red light and returned to the ball. There, he'd be kept in stasis - Jonno desperately hoped it wasn't too late, but knew in the back of his mind that he'd lost his friend. Brock loomed over Jonno, cackling as he did.

"You had your chance," Brock explained. "Onix - kill."

A collective gasp from the townspeople preceded Jonno's feeble attempt at escape - he rushed toward the south of town, toward the lake at the edge of the Viridian Forest. Onix gave a warning roar as Brock leapt off of its head; it dove into the ground, and like a shark chasing blood gave pursuit.

Jonno whipped past thorned vines and rattata in tall grass, as he felt the tremors getting stronger and stronger from behind. Like a shark fin, Onix's horn pierced the ground, a stone pillar of oncoming death.

The snake's head breached the bank of the lake as Jonno's first footfall hit the wooden dock - like a speeding trolley suddenly stopping, Onix turned his momentum away from the water at the last second - it couldn't swim. It snapped its jaw at Jonno, who stumbled, then fell face first into the murky water.

He surfaced for a breath of air, weeds and reeds and all kinds of things hanging from his black beret. Onix sat at the edge of the lake, eyes piercing into Jonno's. The snake would wait for him. No matter which way he tried to escape, the snake would get there first. He could wait it out - let the human flail about in the water until he drowned, or was attacked by the poisonous jellyfish that seemed ubiquitous to Kanto waterways.

With his eyes on Jonno, Onix failed to notice the blue turtle standing behind him.

"Dewey! Hydro Pump!" Jonno shouted. Onix gave a befuddled groan before turning his head - as if lying in wait, the wartortle popped up from the ground, spun inside its shell, and let loose a gushing jet of water from its open mouth. The force of the blast hit Onix directly in his largest part - his head - and unable to resist his own inertia, Onix tipped over, splashing like a doomed jet plane into the lake.

"Dewey, help me out, buddy!"

The wartortle launched into the air and skipped across the surface of the water like a smooth stone before coming to a stop next to Jonno. Jonno grabbed onto Dewey's tail as the latter spat a stream of water to push the two to the muddy shore. The lake surface churned as Onix struggled beneath the gentle waves, sinking into the mud at the bottom.

* * *

Wet, cold, and pissed off, Jonno and Dewey made the short trek back to the quake-stricken city of Pewter. When they arrived, Brock was nowhere to be found.

The townspeople were milling through the wreckage of the quake-destroyed buildings. As Jonno walked by with Dewey, all eyes were on him. He approached a homely woman who seemed unafraid of his black clothes and the red R on his chest. She told him that Brock had run off - she pointed in the direction of the mountains out west.

His well, Jonno reasoned. Perhaps he was trying to hide. Jonno knew exactly where the well was. He'd followed Brock there every day for the last three days.

* * *

Brock pulled the few pebbles that remained of his Geodude from his pocket and held his hand over the well opening. Tears flowed freely, dropping into the seemingly bottomless chamber.

"They'll pay for this," he muttered to the lost Pokémon. Geodude - Brock's lifelong brother. A defender of humanity from the uncertainty of the times. Wiped away by a filthy criminal.

A dead criminal. Onix was making sure of that.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Brock spun around and saw the Rocket standing at the edge of the clearing, gun pointed in his direction. He slowly put his hands up, opening them wide, the remnants of Geodude tinkling to the ground.

"How-"

"Onix is sleeping with the magikarp. If I had to guess, you'll be seeing him soon enough."

Brock remained silent. He had nothing left to say.

Jonno scoffed. "The quiet hero. Stalwart Stoneking. Nothing but another brutish dictator."

"A dictator?" Brock dismissed. "Brutish? Says the man who'd kill someone who was just doing their best to help."

Jonno shrugged. "Everyone's the hero in their own story. I think that's what makes humanity so interesting."

"Kill me, then. Just fucking do it."

"Not yet," said Jonno. He gestured with his pistol. "Get on your knees."

* * *

Two young men stood on the hillside overlooking Pewter. Stones were still rolling down the hills alongside the two, dislodged from their centuries-old resting spots by Onix's appearance.

The taller one shook his head. "We should've stopped him when we had the chance."

The shorter one pulled off his hat, rustling through his matted blonde hair. "How? Killing him?"

"No. That's never the answer."

"Tell that to my father."

The tall one looked at the short one, disgusted.

"You can't even fucking talk. I lost my mother AND my father. Don't even try to compare-"

"Blue, calm your tits. I'm not going to kill him," the shorter one said, before a pause. "I won't have to."

* * *

With hands and feet bound in rope, Brock lay in a small pool of his blood at the foot of the well. Jonno's face was clouded by smoke from the cigarette held in his lips. His hands were engaged with the well's pulley, unhooking the bucket and untangling it from the ropes. Dewey stood near the bound gym leader, keeping guard.

"All things considered, Stoneking, I've enjoyed our little rendezvous this evening. It's a shame you won't be calling me back. Dewey, bring him over."

The wartortle grabbed Brock by his underarms and dragged him over to Jonno. The Rocket took the rope from the well and tied it tight around Brock's neck, bruised with a perfect print of Jonno's hand.

The leader struggled as Dewey lifted him from the ground and onto the rim of the well, where he thrashed weakly.

"Awww, look at that. All tuckered out and still trying to fight. You stallion, you," Jonno teased.

Brock closed his eyes. He'd never open them again.

The ground started to tremble. Right on time.

Like an unholy throat the earth spat out Onix, mud-spattered from his frantic dig out of the water through the lake floor. With rage in his eyes, he dove straight for Jonno - Dewey retreated into his shell and launched upward, slamming his shell into Onix's stomach - the force sent the snake flying high over the well and crashing into the tree line.

It thrashed for a second before rotating its body segments into an upright position. Like a cobra, it rose up in the air, and bared its rocky teeth. Dewey again took a position between Onix and Jonno.

Brock looked up at the snake, weak.

"Do you know why this has to happen?" Jonno called to the snake. It narrowed its eyes in defiance. "Not just for Primeape. For Pewter. For Pallet. For all the men and women this brute has killed, and will kill in the future. And for your freedom."

"Onix..." Brock moaned. "Ki-"

Jonno nudged Brock over the edge of the well, sending him tumbling inside. The spooled rope whipped against the rocks until it went taut, with the sound of a loud, wet pop.

Onix roared, a savage cacophony of pain and vengeance. Dewey stood his ground, keeping the rock snake at bay.

"I know you're angry, Onix," Jonno offered, a meager attempt at consolation to the irate animal. "You'll have plenty of time to mull it over on our way to Mt. Moon."

The Onix howled again and lunged forward, racing toward Jonno, Dewey-be-damned. Jonno bent down and grabbed Onix's Poké Ball off of Brock's discarded vest and held it forward.

"Onix..." Jonno called at the beast, its terrible eyes bearing him down like a runaway train, "RETURN!"

Jonno was engulfed in red light as the beam connected with Onix, and Onix's disintegrating body passed through the Rocket and into the ball. It shook as Onix resisted, but soon came to rest in Jonno's hand.

* * *

Review it, folks! I see you guys are reading it - let me know who you are! I'd love to develop some sense of community with the readers!


	5. Albedo

Author Notes: I don't own Pokémon. I would totally be down if Game Freak would gift it to me, though.

* * *

Chapter 5: Albedo

* * *

Carlotta dropped the fossil specimen she'd so painstakingly slaved over for the past week when she looked up at the sun and saw the shadow of a red, white, and blue eagle pass over the camp. The fossil, a white stone cast of an ancient helix Pokémon, split along the center and crumbled into the dirt like ash.

She shielded her eyes from the solar rays and spotted four similar birds flying in formation with the first. Each came with a single silhouetted rider.

"You bitch!" cried out a lanky, bespectacled man with ratty dark hair and his white shirt caked in dirt and sweat. "Oh, OH, you clumsy whore!"

Carlotta turned to face her approaching supervisor, whose hand was raised in the air to strike her - he was an abusive sort, and seemed to keep forgetting that Carlotta did not react well to his violence. Carlotta's hand snapped up to catch the supervisor's hand mid slap - she then kneed him in the groin, his knees buckling beneath his body as it dropped. His wide eyes landed in the dust of the helix fossil.

"I'll have you fired!" he whined, his voice pitching higher.

"Look up!" she demanded. The other diggers turned their eyes to follow Carlotta's pointing finger. A hush fell over the camp as the five eagles began a headlong dive, pointed straight at them.

The sound of a dozen depressurizing Poké Balls filled the air as the trigger happy inhabitants of the camp prepared to defend their operation.

The supervisor struggled to his feet, one hand cupping his bruising testicles and the other fumbling with his ball belt.

The first of the brilliantly colored eagles landed amidst a circle of koffing and weezing, ekans and arbok; Carlotta unleashed a clefairy from her own Poké Ball as the rider of the mysterious bird leapt off of his mount aggressively. The eagle folded its wings and glared at the building circle of poisonous enemies.

As the other four eagles landed amidst the circle, the first rider removed his helmet and goggles, revealing short dark hair and burnt tan skin. He was tall and built, and clearly well fed - he was either very wealthy, or not from around here.

"Easy, easy!" he shouted, hands high in the air in surrender. "We're here to help!"

The supervisor stumbled away from Carlotta and her clefairy, toward the mystery men and their massive eagles, which he studied intensely.

"Who are you?"

"Lieutenant Cris Soto," the dark-skinned stranger answered, "Unova Fifth Airborne Squadron. We've brought food and water relief - we saw your camp and thought you might appreciate some help."

"Unova?" Carlotta questioned, "You flew here all the way from Unova?"

The lieutenant turned to face Carlotta - he flashed her a wry smile.

"No, sweetness. I don't think Hurley or I have that kind of stamina," he said with a wink, patting his eagle on the neck. "We're stationed in Vermillion, we flew from there."

The diggers all looked at one another, some suspicious, others hopeful. They were running low on everything - food, medicine, feminine necessities...

"No strings attached? You're just giving us supplies? Forgive our apprehension, but usually we have to fight for that kind of thing."

"Gratis, si," Cris said through a smile. "Courtesy of the great Unovan States and the Pokémon League."

The supervisor became immediately enraged. "We don't need no stinkin' charity, especially from-"

Carlotta clasped her hand over her supervisor's mouth and shut him up; "Well gosh, that's very thoughtful of you! We'll take any help we can get!"

The supervisor shot her a dissatisfied look, but in the end said no more.

* * *

Jonno wiped dried blood from his nose and dried tears from his eyes. His feet were blistered and sore, oozing fluid into his steel-toes. He sipped from a water reservoir in his backpack, quenching his parched and scratchy throat.

Dewey proceeded him, uncharacteristically silent. Normally the turtle would be bouncing off walls, trees, the ground - anything to exhaust its limitless energy. But usually he had a buddy to work with. Usually he had Primeape.

"You hungry, buddy?" Jonno called after the adolescent water Pokémon. The turtle fanned its ears and tail and nodded its head; the two approached a fallen tree and sat down on the mossy, rotten wood. Jonno reached into his pack and pulled out two fruit and nut bars, unwrapping one from the wax covering and breaking it in half.

The sensation of nuts crunching between his molars was numb. The wind blasting the mountain and chilling his skin, numb. Not too hot, not too cold. Not much of anything at all.

Dewey gnawed at the bar with his pointed beak and leaf-shaped teeth. If nothing else, he was distracted. Which is about as much as the two could ask for.

Jonno ate his full bar even as Dewey tugged at his pant leg for more. Jonno needed it more.

"Tort!"

"Don't worry buddy, I bought you something special. Withdraw."

The turtle leapt into the middle of the path and took his practiced battle stance, widening his tail and ears to increase his size - an intimidation tactic. He then rolled backward into his shell and spun in a circle, before popping his limbs out and staring down Jonno with his best devil eyes.

"Good boy. Rapid Spin!"

The turtle had actually learned this one from Jonno - underground dance moves were strangely applicable to battles. Like a break dancer, the turtle swirled around the ground, spitting up water to increase his speed.

"You got it! Now, Fly!"

Dewey put a hand on his hip and wagged a finger at Jonno dismissively. Just like Mom.

"One can dream though, am I right little dude? Here you go," Jonno praised, reaching into his bag for a tiny wrapped chocolate at the bottom. Ever since the events of February 6th all those years ago, candy was regarded as one of the rarest delicacies.

Dewey barked, all sadness gone from his eyes. Like popcorn, Jonno tossed it into the air, and the turtle caught it, mashing it into a paste in seconds. He felt rejuvenated, and looked at Jonno expectantly.

"Sorry bud, that's all I got."

The turtle snorted.

"All right, let's get a move on. We're almost back at camp."

Lifting his pack onto his shoulder, he noticed Dewey staring at something up high in the sky.

Five massive birds, circling Mt. Moon. Right above the Rocket Organization's archeological dig.

"The hell...that can't be good..."

* * *

The eagle Pokémon proved quite popular amongst the campers - not only were they foreign, they were incredibly rare in their region of origin. The squadron called them braviary - the symbol of Unovan liberty. Campers were practically lining up to pet them, sit on them, take pictures with them - the visitors had brought several cameras along, and had given them out as entertainment. Morale, Cris said, was almost as important as food in regions suffering from disaster.

Carlotta wrapped her arms tight around Lieutenant Soto's waist as his braviary, Hurley, flapped its massive feathered wings and took the two into the air. She'd never flown before. She felt her stomach drop, and as the ground vanished beneath a canopy of trees she suddenly realized that she was terrified of heights.

"Down, down, holy shit put it back!" she cried out, eliciting only laughter from the pilot, who gave Hurley's reins a tug to bring it higher. The campers below heard her murder screams - like Cris, they all just laughed.

"You'll be fine, just don't let go!" Cris called back to her. He banked right and led Hurley in a circular pattern around the mountain - from above, it was much more obvious how it got its name. The peak was littered with craters - at some point in the past, something huge had happened.

Wind whipping through her hair, her apprehension faded. The world was so beautiful from up in the air. And to think - this Lieutenant Soto could go anywhere he wanted, any time he wanted. Freedom. That thing Unovans were always so quick to bring up.

He looked back at her and smiled. His eyes were deeper and bluer than the sky they flew in.

She squeezed him tighter. "So!" she called over the rushing air, "Tell me about back home! Got a girlfriend?"

Cris didn't hear her. His eyes were locked on the path leading up the mountain. Someone was hiking it. A man in black.

_Rockets._

"Hurley, you see that?"

The eagle gave an affirmative piping call.

"Take us down."

Carlotta felt the bird drop out from underneath her body before gravity kicked in for her as well, and the trio dropped into a nose-dive.

The eagle stretched out its talons as it homed in on the black-beret'd hikers companion Pokémon. If not for Carlotta's incessant howling, little Dewey wouldn't have seen Hurley coming.

With a splash, Dewey dove sideways, the braviary's massive wings blasting the hat off Jonno's head. The Rocket grit his teeth and slid to a stop in the dirt. The eagle came to a stop, barring the path toward the dig.

For the first time, Jonno and Cris's eyes met.

"Halt, Rocket! This area is under the protection of-"

"Jonno?"

Carlotta leapt off of the eagle's back, with the strange feeling that some piece of her was still floating around up in the sky.

"Lottie! What - how - who-"

The feathers around Hurley's neck began to fluff up.

"Carlotta," the lieutenant started, "You know this Rocket?"

"Who the hell is this guy, Lottie?" Jonno hissed. Dewey and Hurley exchanged glares fit for old enemies.

Carlotta smiled sheepishly.

"Actually Cris...it's kind of a funny story..."

* * *

Please leave me a review! Obviously I'm going to branch out a little more to spice up the story, with Pokémon from other regions and whatnot. The next chapter will deal with Primeape's ultimate fate, a couple of canon characters coming into play (who's it gonna be?), and a budding love triangle *wolf whistle*.


	6. Siren

Author Notes: I think I might try to just update this daily or every other day, with whatever I've written, instead of shooting for a specific word count. What do you think?

* * *

Chapter 6: Siren

* * *

Jonno drew his gun and pointed it at Cris. Carlotta was swift to do the very same, pointed at Jonno.

"Whoa!" Jonno exclaimed, incredulous. "Are you shitting me right now?"

"Just stop! Everyone! Let me explain!" the woman pleaded.

Jonno lowered the pistol, but kept his finger on the trigger. Dewey and Hurley didn't understand the words being spoken by their masters, but they knew the tone. They knew that when two trainers eyes met, there was only one possible outcome.

Carlotta sighed, and added yet another white lie to the pile of things she wasn't telling her new army buddies.

"Jonno, this is Cris. He brought us food and water from Unova. He's here to help, and we don't want to turn that away. We _need_ him. Cris, this...is Jonno. He's my brother."

_What the fuck is she talking about?_ Jonno screamed in his head. He looked to Cris, who looked to him, as if to ask if Carlotta's statement was true. Jonno gave a curt nod.

"Then why is he wearing Rocket clothes?"

"Because I killed a man in prison for asking fucking questions, that's why," Jonno retorted, extending a hand to Dewey for a low five. The turtle slapped his hand, as if instinctually.

"We're archaeologists, we don't get involved in politics," Carlotta explained, lying her ass off. "We wear what we have. People donate Rocket clothes all the time. We have a ton. We don't care. We're here for the fossils, not to wax poetic about tyranny or democracy or whatever the flavor of the week is at the Plateau."

Cris seemed to believe her. Hook, line, and sinker.

"But most importantly, my little bro is back home! Come here, little bro!"

Carlotta holstered her pistol and rushed forward to close the distance between her and her "brother." The two shared a hug - they had much to talk about, but not here. Not in front of the guests.

Cris rubbed the back of his head and smiled. "Well, damn. Talk about fucking up the first impression. Nice to meet you, Jonno. I'm glad none of us are the trigger happy sort."

Jonno nodded in acknowledgement of the greeting. He didn't like this soldier guy. He didn't like how they were lying about their allegiances. They were Rockets. They would always be Rockets. No amount of food, water, or fruity colored birds would change that.

"Yeah, pleasure's mine, soldierboy," Jonno said, mocking friendly jocularity. "That's a pretty sweet bird you got there...what is that? A fearow with a gay paint job?"

* * *

Nightfall brought the darkness Jonno needed to deliver his news to the select few campers he trusted - starting with Carlotta. Lieutenant Soto and his brigade took the liberty of building and lighting the fire that evening, and with the braviary squad nested and resting, Jonno and Carlotta were able to sneak away, beyond some brush and up the bend, unnoticed. The biting cold meant their visit required brevity.

"Jonno," Carlotta started, her voice quiet though they were some distance from spying ears, "Where were you?"

"Pewter City."

"Why?"

Jonno met her gaze, but couldn't muster up the breath to answer.

"Why, Jonno?"

He opened his mouth, but instead of words, he broke down sobbing. He reached down to his ball belt and unclipped the Poké Ball containing Primeape.

"Please come with me," he spat through the tears. "I can't do this by myself."

Carlotta's eyes went wide. And she, too, started to cry. But her sorrow melted away quick - she knew Primeape. Primeape was strong, vicious. Unyielding. Unstoppable. For Primeape to have been killed, something would've had to have been stronger than it. And there was only one such beast in Pewter City.

"No...you didn't -" she gasped.

"I did. I did it."

"You killed -"

"Yes."

"Was it worth it?"

Jonno shook his head. The floodgates were open. He dropped to his knees and sobbed into the dirt, slamming the motionless Poké Ball into the ground. Carlotta knelt beside him and put her hand on his back.

"I'll go with you," she promised. "We can bury him down by the lake."

"No," commanded Jonno, "At the top of the mountain. Looking down on all of the filth in this country. Knowing he'll always be above them. It's what he'd want."

"I can help," came a voice from the bushes nearby.

Jonno's tears stopped. As Lieutenant Soto stepped out into the moonlight, Jonno felt anger bubbling up inside.

"How long have you been standing there?" Jonno demanded. He climbed onto his feet and made to close the distance between himself and the aviator.

"Long enough. I'm sorry to hear about your friend. But if you'd like, I can fly you up to the mountaintop come morning."

Jonno stopped.

"Come morning?"

"Yeah," Cris continued. "Before my squad leaves. We can get up at sunrise. I'll take you and Lottie up there, and you two can say some words. It's no trouble."

Jonno looked back to Carlotta for confirmation - she seemed okay with it.

"No. Tonight. Right now. I've waited long enough for this."

Cris looked back at the blip of light down the hill - the campers seemed to be settling into their tents. Now, only the sound of the aviators cavorting about the dying flames carried up the mountain. They wouldn't miss him.

"Deal. Just give me some time to wake Hurley. And Jon - I'm truly sorry. I know what it feels like."

The soldier turned on a dime and descended the hill, as Carlotta embraced Jonno.

"Tell me what happened, sweetie," she whispered in his ear. He stepped away from her and looked out over the forests of Kanto - the distant lights reflecting off of the clouds above Saffron City to the south.

"I did what we do best. I killed him. And I took his Pokémon."

* * *

Reviews: you love doing them, I love receiving them!


	7. Red and Blue

Author's Note: So, usually I'll keep a Pokémon's name lowercase, because in real life, we don't capitalize dog or cat. They're just animals. In some cases, I'll capitalize - Primeape, for instance, because it wasn't nicknamed, and went by Primeape as its actual name. I try to stay consistent, forgive me if I miss one or two!

* * *

Chapter 7: Red and Blue

* * *

The Poké Ball popped open, releasing a fading red light into the deep hole that Jonno had dug with the help of Cris, Carlotta, and Dewey. The angled moonlight failed to illuminate the bottom of the hole, but Primeape's matted white fur was visible motionless, a pale dot in the black. The technicians at the Pokémon center had thankfully been able to push his organs back into his body - still, Primeape looked terrible. Broken. Crushed.

Dewey closed his eyes and bowed his head, squeezing Jonno's hand. Cris and Carlotta shared nervous stares.

"Primeape," Jonno choked, "You were my first catch. My last catch. Me, you, and Dewey...together forever. Taking back what was taken from us all those years ago. Never giving a rat's ass what anyone had to say about it. And all those who underestimated you - all of those who fell to your rage - now, as before, they will always be beneath you. And you will always be able to look down on me and Dewey. And we'll always be looking right back at you. I love you, buddy. Rest easy."

Jonno wiped his eyes and looked over to Dewey for support. After a bout of silence, Carlotta took her turn.

"Primeape. You scared the ever-loving crap out of me. But that's how I knew that you and Jonno were so close. You would never let anyone hurt him. I'm horrible with these kinds of things, but if Pokémon go to heaven, then I hope you're happy there. And if you're in hell...kick the devil's ass for me."

The bereaved trainer chuckled at that.

Dewey stepped up to the edge of the hole and looked down into it. Though he couldn't speak, he sure as hell tried - a cacophony of 'tort', 'war', and gurgling. As the humans looked on, they realized that of all of them, Dewey would miss Primeape the most. When the turtle appeared to be done, Jonno knelt down and picked him up, cradling him like a baby.

"Goodbye, Primeape."

As their shovels broke ground, they felt the mountain shake - a low tremor, just barely noticeable, but they all felt it. At first, they thought it had to have been something native - a diglett herd, perhaps, or a distant battle's aftershock. Hurley and Dewey both rushed over to the edge of the summit and looked down toward the camp. The campfire had grown brighter.

Jonno kept shoveling dirt onto Primeape's body while Cris approached Hurley and Dewey to investigate.

As he looked down, another tremor hit. This one stronger. This time, they saw it happen. An explosion at the campsite, an eruption of flames and purple gas. Poison gas.

The edges of Primeape's grave caved with the quake, more or less finishing the burial. Jonno tossed the shovel aside, he and Carlotta joining the others at the mountains edge.

Another explosion - the supervisor's tent. And another - where they kept the fossils.

The face of his father flashed across Jonno's mind - the face of Irene Oak, burning in a fire. The last sight of his family's Blastoise as it succumbed to poison.

"Not again," Jonno muttered. "I won't let this happen again!"

* * *

Private Huck's braviary spread its wings and blocked the savage flames of a red charmeleon which had claimed its spot beside the campfire, spraying jets of fire at the advancing waves of koffing let loose by campers. The koffings, no more than living balls of gas, popped brilliantly, the tremors felt for miles. They were just target practice for the vicious lizard - the closer to the tents, the more points they were worth. Half the camp was in ruins before the Rockets realized they needed to pull the koffings back - against a fire-breathing beast, they were only making matters worse.

At the opposite end of the camp, a green froglike creature with a blooming red bulb growing from its back spat out dozens of razor-sharp, whistling leaves toward the escaping gas bags. Though they didn't explode quite so brightly as the ones taken out by the charmeleon, they still faltered, their internal gases spraying from the gashes in their skin.

A pair of ekans descended on the ivysaur, which sprouted prehensile tendrils to keep them away. The charmeleon squared off against the supervisor's sandshrew, a hard-skinned rodent who laughed in the face of flames.

The four braviary and their pilots took to the skies and circled like vultures above the carnage, as their fifth joined in, Jonno and Carlotta dropping off of its wings at high speed and rolling into the impact. Carlotta tossed out her clefairy, who stood alongside Dewey, ready for war.

The charmeleon and ivysaur took notice of the wartortle. Batting off their opponents like they were nothing, both of the beasts broke into sprints, gunning directly for Dewey.

The lizard was the first there - it launched into the air and spun, whipping its burning tail toward the wartortle, who batted it away with his own fanning appendage before squirting a jet of water at the attacker. More of the razor leaves rained down upon the two; Hurley flew by and took most of them in his thick plumage, almost completely unhurt.

Swimming up the jet of water, Dewey erupted forth at the charmeleon and rammed him with his hardened skull - the lizard collapsed beneath Dewey as the two clawed at one another. The campfire spun up into a cyclone of fire, which whipped through the air toward the dueling duo.

"Dewey, look out!" Jonno called as the fire tornado overcame the turtle and lizard. The force of the spin lifted the turtle into the air, and he grasped for something to hold onto, but found nothing. He was flung away, into the dirt nearby. Down, but not out. He felt his skin stinging. A burn.

"Treble, Heal Bell!"

Carlotta's clefairy hovered over to Dewey with its tiny wings and gravity-defying step, and cooed with a voice that sounded like a jingling bell. Dewey pushed himself up onto his feet and glared at the charmeleon and ivysaur. As Hurley landed behind them, backing them up, they heard the footsteps and saw the shapes of two enemy trainers approaching from the edges of the camp. One had tall, spiky brown hair and a cocky look about him; the other's dark blonde hair was hidden beneath the rim of a red cap.

The capped one spoke up as the Pokémon stared one another down.

"We're looking for Jonno Schenkkan. I assume that's you," he said, pointing a finger directly at Jonno.

"Yeah. What do you want with me?"

The two stepped into the light. The spiky-haired one made eye contact with Jonno - and suddenly, he knew exactly who they were.

* * *

Thanks in advance for the review you're about to leave!


	8. End It

Author's Note: Doing pretty well with the daily posts, I think. Onward to Cerulean!

* * *

Chapter 8: End It

* * *

"Blue."

Jonno noticed the glint of light from the fire off of a little silver badge pinned to Blue's vest. The very same kind that Brock wore, a symbol of his rank in the Pokémon League. His companion, the capped one, bore the same badge.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it. I'd always wondered what happened to you. Never would've guessed you'd up and joined the bad guys," Blue oozed, not a word from his mouth sounding genuine. He'd always been a bit of a douche. "Bad" guys. Right.

"Who's your friend, Oak?" Jonno called to Blue, dismissive of the short, unassuming boy standing beside him. The boy grabbed the brim of his hat and twisted it around to the back.

"My name is Red," he answered, his eyes now in full view.

Lieutenant Soto put his hands into the air and stepped between Jonno and the intruders. Hurley kept its keen eyes on the invading Pokémon, who seemed eager to kill. They were just waiting for their orders.

"Everybody just stand down, we can solve this without violence!"

Red and Blue looked up and down at Cris, and his foreign uniform, and the bird defending him. They'd never seen anything like it, but it betrayed his nationality, that he didn't belong. That he probably had no idea who he was dealing with.

"Soldier, we have no qualms with you. And we appreciate your aid, whatever bit of it you've brought. You have our thanks, and those of the Pokémon League. But young Jonno here has acted with violence against our people and attempted to undermine our recovery as a nation," Blue explained, flashing his badge as proof of his identity.

"The punishment for sedition is death. The punishment for murder is death. The punishment for Pokémon theft..." Red interjected, "...well, it's prison, but we're going to kill you anyway. Choose your Pokémon, Jonno."

Cris glanced back at Jonno, who looked to Carlotta, then back to Cris.

"Murder?" the lieutenant gasped. "Jon? You killed someone? And stole their Pokémon? That sounds like..."

Blue smirked. Red's face betrayed no emotion. The charmeleon and the ivysaur began a wide circle around Jonno and Dewey.

"...something the Rockets would..."

"Dewey, Hydro Pump!"

The turtle sprung into the air and tucked into his shell as razor leaves pelted his outside - during a lull in the barrage, he peeked his head out and erupted a jet of brine directly at the unexpecting charmeleon. The lizard tucked its tail into its body and took the full force of the blast, as all hell broke loose around them. Like the piper's parade, a legion of ekans descended on Red and Blue from the trees, while sandshrew popped up like whack-a-moles around them, brandishing their sharpened claws.

The still air was abuzz with the calling of commands - the Rockets exchanging blows with Red and Blue while their Pokémon began dogged pursuit of Jonno.

Cris grabbed Carlotta by the arm and looked her in her eyes.

"What's going on, Lottie?"

Carlotta whipped her arm from Cris's vicegrip and stepped backward, her clefairy closing the gap between her and the soldier.

"Secret's out," she sighed, whipping out her black beret. "Prepare for Treble! Seismic Toss!"

Treble flapped its tiny pixie wings and launched toward Cris, still in a state of shock that Carlotta was so quick to turn on him. And here he'd been, thinking that they'd had a connection.

Seconds before the fairy would've gotten a hold on Cris, Hurley blasted her with a whirlwind; she twisted and turned in the air before catching herself on her wings and hovering down to the ground, uninjured, in front of Carlotta.

The four other braviary took to the air, with their riders. Like the birds of prey that they were, they swooped down in formation to thin the ranks of the advancing ekans waves, keeping Red and Blue safe. Pieces of the ekans rained down on the battlefield as they were torn to bits by the massive eagles.

Protected inside his shell, Dewey whipped through the air like a tennis ball, batted back and forth by the ivysaur's vines and baked in the fires of charmeleon's rage. Jonno drew his pistol and pointed toward Red and Blue. But try as he did, he couldn't get a clear shot. The intruders, from his angle, were naught but a dusty ball of fists and feet, engaged in melee with the closest of the Rockets.

"Lieutenant! They're Rockets, every last one of them!" Private Cruz called from his braviary as it passed by. It swept up one of the younger men with its talons and took him a hundred feet into the air before dropping him into the treetops. His screams started low but grew as he fell, before suddenly ceasing as he became impaled on the wooden branches.

The other braviary followed suit. There were far too many ekans to handle - killing their commanders would more easily stop their advance.

"I fucking know, Private!" the lieutenant called back. Treble went for him again in his distraction. He batted the fairy away with his own fists as Carlotta tackled him from the waist, and Hurley swept by, his talon leaving a massive gash in Carlotta's leg.

Cris swung and clocked Carlotta hard in the face - she felt part of her cheek cave as she brought up her knee into the soldier's groin, smashing his testicles as hard as she could. As Hurley mounted the two, trying to pull the woman free from the eagle's commander, it started to peck at her, leaving stab-like wounds up and down her torso.

Cris pushed Hurley away and stood, slumping his body across the bird's back as it lifted off, leaving Carlotta bleeding and broken in the dirt.

Jonno squeezed off three rounds at the escaping bird, but missed completely. He turned his attention back to Dewey, whose green shell was beginning to blacken from the baking.

"Dewey, Rapid Spin!"

The flames sprayed off of the swirling turtle's shell and caught the ivysaur's bulb aflame - the frog rolled over onto its back to put it out, still lashing with its vines.

The charmeleon leapt atop the spinning shell and pinned it down, then opened its mouth and unleashed a brutal spray of fire on the helpless amphibian. Jonno listened in horror as he heard Dewey begin boiling within its own shell. Treble nudged Carlotta's ravaged body, pushing her to stand, but she would not.

Red and Jonno stared at one another from afar. If Jonno didn't end it now, then Dewey would die. Carlotta, too.

"Dewey, return!" Jonno called out, shooting his Poké Ball beam at the sizzling green shell beneath the charmeleon. He clipped it to his belt and rushed to Carlotta's side. She was conscious, but only just. He lifted her onto her feet as he realized that Blue and Red were coming right for him.

He had no other choice.

"Onix, go!"

He threw the Poké Ball into the center of camp, and ran for the hills, Carlotta limping alongside him.

Red and Blue stood back as the towering rock snake loomed over them. It did not know who they were - who any of these people were. It only knew rage.

The braviary descended on it, their claws ineffective against its tough skin. It smashed one into the ground, killing both rider and beast instantly. It spat rocks at the others in the sky, raining boulders down on the camp, destroying what remained of the tents and fossils. The ekans fled into the forest, their trainers right behind them.

It came down to Red, Blue, and the massive rampaging beast.

The trainers retrieved their Pokémon, turned toward Pewter, and took off running as the Onix's howls echoed across Kanto from the mountaintop.

* * *

Starts with an R, ends with a W. Do I need to spell the rest out?


	9. No Survivors

Author's Note: Job interview in the morning! This is my ticket to freedom!

* * *

Chapter 9: No Survivors

* * *

The dawn broke over Cerulean City as Jonno descended the far side of Mt. Moon, the warmth of blood on his arms cooling with the morning wind. Carlotta's eyelids drooped lazy over her brown eyes, and her grip on her savior was weakening with every second that passed. In the light, Jonno could see how pale she'd gotten - she was not going to last much longer. He avoided looking at the gashes in her thighs and the redness staining her tank top; the sight of blood still sickened him, even after all he'd done.

"J-Jon...please..." Her voice was pathetic, not even a whisper. She winced as the air pushed through her cracked, dry throat.

"Don't talk, sweetie, we're nearly there, we'll get you help. Look, see, it's right there," Jonno reassured her, pointing with his free hand at the Cerulean skyline. It was a stunning view - he'd not seen a real city like it in years. It looked almost untouched by the disaster, from so far away.

"I..._urgh-"_

She dropped to the ground and vomited on Jonno's boots.

"Get up, get up! You can't stop here, we're so close!"

The makeshift bandages he'd made her, torn from what used to be his uniform, were soaking with blood. It was everywhere. They'd left a trail all the way back to their forsaken campsite - the same campsite where the roars of the insipid Onix could still be heard.

Jonno put his hands under Carlotta's arms to lift her, but she batted him away, lying her face down in the puddle of puke. She was starting to go blind.

"Leave me..."

"Don't say that!"

Jonno unclipped Treble's Poké Ball from Carlotta's belt and pressed the button to release the clefairy. A glowing cloud of jellied red light formed into the pixie on the dirt road beside the dying girl; this was the sixth or seventh time Jonno had called upon her. The clefairy shook its head, tears in its eyes.

"Heal Bell," Jonno demanded. Treble looked at him like he was an idiot. "Go on, you stupid fairy. Do it. Heal her!"

But Treble was all out of juice. She had done her best, but her best was not enough.

Carlotta held out her hand and placed it on the creature's head, gently rubbing the odd spiral on its forehead. "Don't be sad, beautiful...Mommy..._cough_...loves you so much..."

Jonno tore off what was left of his sweater, exposing his tanned skin to the morning air, biting his lip from the cold. He fashioned the garment into a makeshift pillow and lifted Carlotta's head, sliding the pillow under. She wasn't going to make it - she was only slowing them down. Jonno looked down the mountainside toward Cerulean.

_A half hour. If I run, I can make it. And I can bring back help._

"Lottie, stay right here, okay? I'm going to go get help, I won't be long, okay? Lottie? Lottie, answer me!"

Her eyes closed, and her breath shortened. He had to go - now.

"Treble, don't you dare let her die! I'll be right back, I swear!"

Jonno took off down the hill, discarding everything he could that would slow him down. His bag, his books, even his beret. He hopped a short cliff and tore across a grassy field, the tall blades tickling at his bare skin. He sensed other beings in the grass - things hunting him. But he couldn't stop to entertain them, even if he wanted to. There was no time.

* * *

Hurley landed atop the main deck of the _USN Reshiram _at Vermillion Harbor as the sun rose, accompanied by the three remaining braviary of the Fifth Squadron. Long before they landed, everyone aboard knew what had happened - their V formation was weighted on one side. Somebody had died.

The sailors cleared the landing pad of supplies and men for their landing as their admiral, a free spirit by the name of Marlon, stood at attention, awaiting Lieutenant Soto's report. The lieutenant was bloodied, and his mount had a bit more red in its feathers than it had when it left - but mostly, he appeared fine. As the pilots disembarked and the braviary took off to nest higher up on the ship, it was apparent that Cruz was not among the returning crew.

"Lieutenant," Marlon greeted Soto, saluting him with two fingers. "You're a day late. And a man short."

Cris shook his head. "Sir-"

"Don't call me 'sir'. It's Marlon, yo."

Cris cringed. For an admiral, Marlon had always been a bit laissez-faire. "Marlon. We were attacked. Cruz and his bird went down in the fight," Cris recited. He stood strong for his superior, but Marlon knew the lieutenant better than that. Soto was broken.

"Ouch, man. Very ouch...get yourself settled and come see me in my office, 'kay? We'll hash it out."

Soto took his bags to his room on Deck 2 and dropped them on the floor beside the steel door. The room was spic-and-span, just the way he'd left it, not a dust bunny out of place. He took a moment to adjust his appearance in his tiny washroom, splashed cold water on his face, took a much needed piss, then left, off to meet with the admiral.

When Cris arrived at Marlon's office, he noticed that it was a complete fucking mess, the polar opposite of Cris's quarters. Papers strewn about the desk and floor, crumbled balls of it lying beside the trash can (failed three-pointer attempts, knowing Marlon). The admiral sat with his boots propped up on his desk, untied, laces dangling free, tongues hanging out. The admiral's jacket was unfastened and his dark chest was exposed. Atop his head, a peaked cap leaning to one side.

"Yo, Cris, been waitin' decades for ya. Have a seat."

Cris obeyed. Something seemed off about the admiral today. Cris shook it off - maybe he was still just feeling the effects of Cruz's death. The roar of the Onix still played back in his brain like a broken record.

"So tell me what happened, bud, how'd a straight shooter like you let someone get the jump on you?" Marlon asked, popping his knuckles.

Cris slumped back in his chair.

"It was the Rockets."

"No shit. The Rockets attacked you, huh?"

"Well, not exactly." Actually, the Rockets hadn't done much wrong. The shit only hit the fan once those two League trainers had shown up and started burning everything in sight. "It was these two guys, Red and Blue. They had League badges, and turns out we'd stopped at the wrong camp. We gave supplies to the Rockets. I won't bore you with the details-"

"Nonsense, I love watching you talk," Marlon said with a grin, his gaze lingering just a second longer than he meant it to. Cris shuffled his feet.

"Are you...all right, Marlon? You seem a little distracted."

"I am."

"...right, well, uh, this is kind of important, so..."

"Tell you what, Lieutenant, you caught me. Have a drink with me. I've got a bottle of cognac I've been sipping on all day in this drawer," Marlon offered, pulling open the large cabinet drawer to his immediate right, then blinking as his brain registered that the bottle was not there.

"Drinking on the job, Admiral? You realize how illegal that is?"

Marlon checked the next drawer, and found his shot glasses, but no liquor.

"Legal schmegal, when in Vermillion, drink like the refugees drink, that's my motto. No, it's not, I just made it up, but...where in the sam hell did I leave that thing..."

Cris grinned. "Well, pour me a glass, hombre. The story's not over." He reached into his breast pocket and produced a spliff he'd obtained at the Rocket camp, an offering from one of the residents in exchange for a picture with the squad. "Got a light?"

"Oh, I don't smoke, Soto,"

"Suit yourself,"

Marlon tore the office apart looking for his cognac while Cris recounted the story of Cruz's death, his unceremonious crushing beneath the massive Onix that Jonno had pulled out of nowhere. The tobacco mixture helped ease the aviator's hand and emotions as he retold it; halfway through, the admiral found the bottle sitting on his washroom counter and filled two glasses, passing one to Cris as he ashed the spliff into the waste bin.

"So the Rockets didn't start the violence, it sounds like. But they definitely played into it."

Cris hadn't thought about it that way. But it was true - the Rockets had been more than accommodating. Suddenly, he felt more than a little bad about leaving Carlotta the way he had, savaged by Hurley and left crumpled in the dirt. But Jonno seemed like a decent kid, he'd probably taken care of her...and surely that Onix had helped a lot in repelling the League trainers...

"We'll get a vigil set up at the town hall for Cruz. And I'll get the ball rolling on notifying his next of kin. Don't beat yourself up, bud, this wasn't your fault. You were only trying to help."

"Thanks, sir,"

"Marlon,"

"Right, sorry. Thanks, Marlon."

The admiral stood, balancing against the desk with his arm, glass half empty in his other hand. Cris finished his cognac and stood as well, Marlon guiding him to the door with a hand on his shoulder.

"And if you need a friend," Marlon offered, with a wink and a pat on the ass, "you got me. Take the day off, go sightseeing. You've earned it."

Cris strutted out of the admiral's office feeling not much different than he did when he went in. But at least he knew the admiral was on his side. The alcohol warmed his blood, but his thoughts again turned to Carlotta.

He walked out onto the deck and looked north - beyond the skyscrapers of Saffron, he could still see the peak of Mt. Moon.

He was about to do something kind of stupid.

* * *

Meant to have this up last night, but here it is. REVIEW IT YO


	10. Your Problem

Author's Note: Employment, here I come!

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Chapter 10: Your Problem

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Jonno collapsed as he passed through the town's gateway, heaving giant lungfuls of crisp morning air and verdant Cerulean dew. He scraped his hands on the cobblestone road, and drew odd looks from the townsfolk passing by. The roaring of the northern river filled his ears, along with the _schluck-schluck _of the poisonous grimer on the river's surface as they splashed against jagged rock.

"Help me, please!" he begged the nearest bystander, a woman with a child close by her side. The child looked upon Jonno, shirtless and breathless, with more sympathy than his mother, who simply turned up her nose and kept along the path, her heels click-clicking on the stones.

Jonno stood up and saw the red roof of the Pokémon Center just up the road. They didn't typically help human patients, but there was no other clinic in sight. The trainer rushed to the sliding glass doorway and stood in front of it expectantly, awaiting the automatic sensor to kick in, but it never did. He spied the hours of operation on a white sign nearby - closed. For the day.

"Are you kidding me? Open the door, I need help! Someone's dying out here!"

More confused looks from the townspeople were all his pleading earned. He banged on the doors with balled up fists, the glass shaking in its frame, but he could see no lights on inside. No nurses, no chansey aides. Nothing.

"Keep it down, ya hoodlum, it's 6 in the goddamn morning!" a homeless man called from the alley across the way. Jonno flipped him his middle finger with a brazen "Fuck you!" and ran around the back of the building, glancing through every window he could. It appeared that no one was home. That was unacceptable.

He pulled back his elbow and smashed it into the glass, shattering one of the windows inward. He climbed through with trepidation, careful not to cut himself on the jagged frame.

Once inside, he felt the warmth of the central heating as it rushed out into the cold morning. He appeared to be in one of the surgery rooms - it was barren and featureless, save for an empty IV bag and a well-kept cot. The door into the rest of the center was unlocked - Jonno pushed it open and entered the hallway, looking to his left - nothing but a deep red exit sign glowing the the abandoned corridor - and the right - a single small square of light, broadcasting someone's presence in a nearby room. Jonno could hear two voices - one a low, gruff, breathy sound - the other, a feminine giggle.

"Hello?" he called out, "I need help, somebody!"

Two intertwined shadows danced in the square of light, but didn't react to his voice. The doors were too thick.

He jogged to the doorway and grabbed the handle, ripping the door open, before suddenly wishing he'd knocked.

There were indeed two people inside, a man and a woman - the woman's lab coat and button-down shirt were wide open, the man's hands cupping her breasts, his pants down around his ankles and ass bare. Jonno shielded his eyes as the two turned to him, like deer in the headlights, and the woman started to scream.

"Sorry, sorry! God, fucking dammit!"

"Close the door, close the door!" the woman shrieked. Jonno did as instructed, listening to the man and woman arguing inside about who had forgotten to lock the clinic's front door. A few haphazard and rapid zips later, the man emerged from the room, face flushed, hair mussed, hyperventilating.

"How did you get in here? We're closed, ya know-"

"You're a fucking clinic, how can you be closed? Someone is DYING outside, I need help YESTERDAY," Jonno raved, pointing and sputtering. The man before him was young, not much older than Jonno - a nurse, by his manner of dress. He seemed sympathetic, by the look on his face. The woman emerged from the room in short order, flattening the wrinkles in her coat, hiding her embarrassment behind a veil of anger.

"What's the trouble, young man?" she asked, condescending. She appeared to be in her forties, hair just beginning to gray. Her eyebrows oozed bitchiness.

"There's a girl on the slope of the mountain and she's going to die unless we help her, right now. Please, I'm sorry for breaking in but-"

"Breaking in?" the female doctor reiterated, seemingly ignoring everything else Jonno had said. She turned to her young consort. "I told you I'd heard something."

"I'll pay for the window, I swear, just..." Jonno promised, his voice cracking, eyes welling up. "Please!"

"We don't treat humans. Nurse, show him the door. I'll be in my office."

The woman turned on her heels and walked away, despite Jonno's protests. She disappeared into a dark room at the far end of the hallway, as Jonno and the nurse watched.

"She's right...I'm sorry, man. We're just not equipped to deal with human patients. Please understand. But if you wanted, you could speak with Misty, the town leader. She has a doctor in her employ, at the nadatorium just down the road."

_Misty. I know that name._

"Is there anything else I can help you with? Pokémon related, preferably..."

The nurse was talking out his ass. He just wanted to get back to banging his boss.

Jonno pulled Dewey's Poké Ball from his belt and lobbed it to the nurse. "Burns. Please save him, he's all I've got left. I've got to go - Misty. Misty at the nadatorium. Thanks for almost nothing, jackass,"

Jonno returned to the broken window and climbed out, back into the cold morning air. He wished he'd stolen some scrubs, or a blanket - but he didn't have that kind of time. He had to find Misty.

_Lottie...I'm coming...just hang on..._

* * *

Treble shook Carlotta's hand as she nodded off again, snapping her back to consciousness. She ran her fingers over its soft, fluffy skin.

"Baby don't cry...Mommy doesn't even feel it anymore..."

Carlotta's skin was turning blue. Treble looked down the mountain expectantly - as if Jonno were going to be there. But he wasn't. A half hour had passed, and he still wasn't back.

"Clefairy," the creature vocalized, desperate. It had an idea.

It put both hands in the air, and began swinging its body back and forth, like a pendulum.

"No, Treble...don't..." Carlotta rasped.

Treble's eyes sparkled. While it might not have had any more healing juice left, it still held a wild card. Metronome.

"Treble! No!"

The fairy glowed with a white light before suddenly launching backward with a cry of pain - it rolled down the slope of the mountain, kicking up dirt and rocks with its speed. Carlotta felt the gash in her leg start to seal, as Treble's squeals of pain grew louder and louder. As suddenly as the healing started, it stopped - blood still poured from her wounds and pooled underneath her. The pixie had absorbed some of her injuries - but it wasn't enough.

She closed her eyes, and said a silent prayer.

As Treble struggled to stand, she saw a shadow pass over Carlotta's body.

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Will she or won't she? Review and you'll find out!


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